


The Fairytale Brothel

by Coconutice22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brothel AU, Castiel has an insect wing fetish, Dean only quotes Shakespeare, M/M, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:32:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6857041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coconutice22/pseuds/Coconutice22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Castiel's 40th birthday, he's decided to treat himself to his ultimate fantasy. He's heading to Nevada, but not for the casinos, Cas is only interested in one thing: The Fairytale Brothel. </p><p>The moment he saw Dean in his tiny, glittery green thong and fake wings, Cas knew he was in love. </p><p>//Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?//</p><p>The only problem with this perfect guy? He only talks using Shakespeare quotes. </p><p>//Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality.//</p><p>Castiel is caught between his lust for Dean and hatred for Shakespeare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fairytale Brothel

The humidity Castiel in the face like an unexpected facial cum shot. Part of him wished he could just stay in the airport, with its intense air con and moving walkways, but that wouldn't get him to his ultimate goal. 

Ever since he was in his early 20s he realized and he'd had this strange desire. A strong, passionate lust, for something unusual even by porn standards. For a while he'd thought maybe he was a furry, but it had taken under ten minutes at a furry orgy to realize that was far from the truth. 

But it couldn't be denied, he liked costumes. In particular, angel wing costumes. The idea of fucking someone wearing gossamer wings just did something for him. 

As a child, he'd had a bit of an angel kink. His mother had put posters of biblical angels all around the house to inspire her children. Except when Castiel's abnormally high sex drive had kicked in around thirteen, he'd found himself masturbating everywhere he could whenever he could get away with it. At some point the frowning faces of the serene angles looking down on him had turned from a feeling of scary shame to, well, he'd probably managed to psychologically connect them to the pleasurable feeling of touching himself. 

For years he'd wanted to gather the courage to ask his sexual partners to dress up for him in wings. Not even once had he actually managed to go through with it though. He'd had the costume for years. Thin, see-through material that shimmered in the light, spread out over wire in the shape of wings. 

Feathers weren't particularly Castiel's deal. He was in it for the shimmer and the shine. And no where in the bible that he'd ever read did it say that the archangels didn't have massive insect-like wings. 

He'd first conceived of the idea of visiting a legal brothel and simply paying someone to wear the costume for him a few years back. Since then he'd planned every part of his visit down to the smallest detail. 

It was his 40th birthday and Castiel's family believed he was visiting friends. Meanwhile, his friends believed he was going on a religious retreat with his family and would be unavailable for seven days. Little did any of these people know that Castiel, the very proper business man who wore a shirt and cufflinks to work everyday, was really taking a cross-country trip just to visit the very famous Fairytale Brothel. 

Fairytale was the most reputable place for male prostitutes in Nevada. He really hoped though that one of the guys there would fit perfectly this mental image he'd been building for years of what it'd finally be like to have a guy on all fours in front of him, glittering wings bouncing every time he thrust his hard meat sword into the slick hole of his bed partner. 

It was going to be glorious. So fucking glorious. 

But before that, Castiel still had to get out of the airport, find his hotel, go to the brothel, explain his business and then finally, finally he'd be able to dip his dong. 

***

Castiel's hotel was a short distance from the brothel. Which was important as he hoped to spend as much time as possible there over the next few days. In his deepest fantasies, he'd get to take his pick back to his hotel room and receive a 24/7 boyfriend experience package for those few days. Though the chances of the management letting an unknown guy like himself do that seemed slim to none. 

The idea of a live-at-home boyfriend though who walked around all day in nothing but his wings and a smile on his face sent shivers of want down Castiel's spine. Alas, that was only ever to be a fantasy. 

He unpacked his clothes into the small but clean room and then finally changed out of his travel clothes. Castiel sat down on the bed and bounced up and down on it a few times, noting with some pleasure it would probably be excellent for bouncing contests with his companion should he get to bring the other guy back with him. Maybe they could even make a game of who could bounce the highest. He'd win, naturally, and his sex partner would have to do whatever he said. Within reason, naturally, and with full consent, he reminded himself. Paying someone to have sex didn't make them any less able to withdraw consent. 

After an hour of not doing much but daydreaming of what was to come, Castiel finally stood up and made the journey to Fairytale. 

***  
Fairytale was so far everything he'd ever hoped for. Neon clashing color scheme, thick pile carpet, paintings on the walls of random items of cutlery. 

“Do you know how this works, Mr. Angleman?” asked the Madam who ran the place. Her name was Ellen. She had a sense about her that made Castiel feel like she knew exactly what he wanted. She smelled like Oreos and whiskey and Castiel sort of wanted to build a monument to her made out of bottle caps. 

Angelman was the super secretive name Castiel had given himself when he got to the brothel. Oh how he laughed. Not at his chosen name, but at a video he'd seen online two years before of a panda sneezing. Look it up if you haven't seen it. The panda sneezes and then the momma panda gets scared and jumps. The whole thing is freaking hilarious. 

“Not really, if I'm being honest. Could you walk me through it?” 

“Any available boys will come through and introduce themselves. You sit here, and whoever catches your eye, you two talk, agree a price for the acts, and then if everyone is happy, you go to one of their private rooms.” 

Castiel nodded to show his agreement and waited for the line-up to start. 

Each guy walking through the door was perfect. Tall, strong jawed, hands with nails as well as fingerprints. Just perfect. 

Though it wasn't until the last guy that Castiel's jaw dropped. 

He had brown hair and eyes so green Castiel figured he must rub his eyes with kale everyday. Better yet, the only thing he had on was a tiny, glittery thong. Probably picked out to match his eyes, but to Castiel, it couldn't have been better. This was a match made in...not heaven exactly, more like a match made in an expensive brothel in Nevada. Yeah, that seemed the perfect metaphor for Castiel's current situation. Castiel's current circumstances was the best metaphor for his literal circumstances. 

The thong, the eyes, those strong shoulders, his elbows. 

“This here,” Ellen whispered into his ear, “Is Deanie Beanie. Pick him tonight and he'll blow your mind. And if you want, your soup too, he'll blow on each spoonful to cool it down for you.” 

“Yes.” was Castiel's immediate reply. 

“Yes, you want soup?” 

“I want soup, cuddling, and to rim him so thoroughly I have to use lip balm for months to come,” Castiel replied in his normal monotone. 

“Just one small minor detail,” Ellen shrugged, “a really tiny thing.” 

“Ah-ha,” Castiel replied distractedly, already too busy making goo-goo eyes at Deanie Beanie. 

“Dean's only got limited conversation abilities. The author of this piece decided when writing her summary it would be funnier if Dean only spoke in Shakespearean quotes. But Dean makes it work, even with dirty talk. You just have to be a little open minded.” 

Castiel's heart skipped a beat. It kept doing that, he really needed to see a cardiologist. But that was an adventure for another day. 

“Wings,” was Castiel's reply after a moment. 

“No, none of these gentlemen are called wings,” Ellen replied. 

“I mean,” Castiel reached around his chair to pick up the bag he'd brought with him. “My only request is that I'd like to see Dean in these,” from the bag he pulled out the wire and mesh wings he'd brought with him. “If they seem suitable, I might be able to look beyond the Shakespeare thing.” 

Ellen nodded. “Deanie Beanie, come forward please, the rest of you may go back to whatever you were doing.” 

Dean moved with the grace of a radio-controlled car. 

“How dost thou, sweet lord?” he asked with a cock of his hip and a raised eyebrow. 

“Um,” sweat dripped down Castiel's forehead. Hamlet always brought him out in a cold sweat. But he'd come this far. “I'd like to see you try these on,” he handed over the wings. 

Deanie Beanie smiled charmingly and did as Castiel asked. When the complete outfit was together, the small, green thong, the beautiful wings, the smile... Castiel felt like:

“I will live in they heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in they eyes,” Dean purred, moving closer to Castiel, tipping the older man's chin up. 

Castiel gulped. 

He had so many freckles. Such smooth skin. 

“Flesh stays no further reason but rising at thy name.” He punctuated this with a thrust of his hip. His dick jingling about in the tiny thong he had on. 

Oh. oh no. This was not a turn on. Castiel was struggling. 

“Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where pleasant fountains lie.” He smiled so beautifully at Castiel, and smelled so nice. 

Ellen clearly recognized the conflict playing itself out in Castiel's face. 

“Look, Mr. Angleman, if you have your cock down his throat, he's not going to be able to quote Shakespeare. You get what you want, what you've always wanted. I assure you, Deanie Beanie has excellent reviews.” 

“I want the boyfriend package. I want to pretend we're dating, and then I want to take you to bed and make you feel so good.” 

“For $800, you can have him for the next 24 hours,” Ellen told Castiel. 

Deanie Beanie started gyrating his hips, clearly sensing he might be about to lose a customer. Cas watched, hypnotized by the motion. 

“If Dean is agreeable?” 

Dean smiled widely and nodded. He flexed his shoulders so that the wings wiggled slightly. Cas felt himself hardening. 

“Then I think we have a deal. You are welcome to go out onto the terrace with Dean, start your date out there.” 

***

Deanie Beanie was magnificent. Towards the end of the 24 hours, Castiel thought he might cry when it came time to leave the other man. 

Despite Castiel's extreme reservations about the whole Shakespeare thing, he found himself getting into it mid second-round fucking with Dean. 

“Some are born great, some achieve greatness,” he'd been rocking his hips into the insane niceness that was Dean's lubed ass. Shifting Dean's legs so that they were resting on his shoulders, Castiel had come almost screaming “And some have greatness thrust upon them.” 

He had lain tangled with Dean, both exchanging sweet nothings. Ellen had been right. Such was Deanie's knowledge of Shakespeare it was barely a hurdle to events that he had such an odd speech impediment. Castiel hadn't realized before this time how many phrases and words Shakespeare had used that still get used in general conversation. 

When it came time to part, Deanie Beanie tried to hand back Castiel's wings. 

“No, Dean. I'd like you to keep them. I'd like to see you again this week, before I have to go back to reality.” 

What Castiel would really like was a tall glass of water, oh and also for Dean to come back with him and be his actual boyfriend. 

Dean took a step forward so he could press a quick kiss to Castiel's cheek. 

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” he gently cupping Castiel's face with one hand. “That I shall say, good night till it be morrow?” 

“I'd like that, Deanie Beanie. I'd like that a lot.” 

It was probably naive to think there was a real connection between them, but you weren't there, you weren't there man. You weren't there when they were making passionate, bunny-like sex and Dean was coming like a can of silly string. 

Castiel was definitely coming back to Dean before his visit ended. And if he had to spend all of the in between hours watching porn in the hopes that his magical dick might make Dean fall in love with him and come home with him, so be it. 

Stay tuned for the next chapter, in which Ellen gets a foot rub, Dean makes a startling discovery (“What do you mean I'm the only one who speaks like this?!”) and the author promises never to update this fic again.

**Author's Note:**

> Clearly something is wrong with me and with this fic. I'd like to thank the organisers of spncoldesthits for encouraging such ridiculousness. It was so much fun to write this! 
> 
> There won't be any further additional chapters, and in fact I'm likely to rip this down least people think it is what I usually write. 
> 
> So rules say I need to link back to this post: http://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/143263028075/may-posting-dates-13-15-may-may-rules-reblog which explains some stuff? Not all the stuff. So many things left to explain.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as [perfackles](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/perfackles) or coconutice22 if you want my non-Supernatural stuff.


End file.
